


Fight, Flight, Or...?

by orphan_account



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 04:31:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picks up after Walter rescues Jesse from the superlab in “Face Off”.  Protagonists do strange things under the influence of stress hormones, right?  Especially in fandom?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight, Flight, Or...?

He was sure that if he asked Mr. White for a reason why it happened, he’d say something scientific.  About… brain chemistry, or biological whatchamacallits.  Jesse wasn’t sure he wanted to hear a technical explanation, though.  Actually, he was sure he _didn’t_ want to hear a technical explanation, because he really didn’t want to hear anything at all.  The moment was nice enough by itself; it was comfortable.  No one was trying to kill them.  There was no guillotine blade waiting to fall.

Made for a nice change, Jesse thought.  Even if it was a little weird to think that the guy basically spooning him right now had been his high school Chemistry teacher.  And that he was probably going to ache for a little while, thanks to that same Chemistry teacher… 

* * *

_A few hours earlier…_

He hadn’t meant to kiss him.  Once they’d gotten away from that burning lab and Mr. White pulled over, they’d been panting like they’d run for miles.  Like leftover adrenaline from that fight or flight thing had been buzzing around in his system and he’d just had to do _something_.

_Something_ didn’t usually mean kissing a guy that’s old enough to be your dad, but people do weird-ass things when they’re relieved, right?  And Mr. White probably wouldn’t have kissed him back, either, if they hadn’t just been through all of that Really Heavy Shit.  Jesse had lunged across the front seat of that fucking beige Aztek, sure, but Mr. White had kissed him back.

If Jesse had to judge solely on technique, disregarding the weirdness of kissing a dude in the first place, Mr. White was a pretty fucking amazing kisser.

Eventually, Jesse pulled back to breathe, and Mr. White had looked at him with narrowed eyes, like he was fucking scrutinizing him.  Mr. White seemed to make some kind of decision, and he put the car in gear and pulled back onto the road.

Jesse had miscalculated, though; the adrenaline hadn’t gone away after that impulsive kiss.  If anything, he was even more wired than he’d been in the first place.

They’d pulled into the driveway of Mr. White’s condo, and he turned to Jesse and said “Inside,” in that gruff voice that usually meant Jesse had fucked something up.

“Always with the orders, huh?” Jesse had snarked back, because that’s what they did.  Mr. White gave the instructions, and Jesse complained about them.  But then he usually went ahead and did what he was told.  Why should this be any different?

Mr. White didn’t even wait until the door had slammed shut before he turned and attacked, pressing Jesse back against the wall, hands on his shoulders, bringing their mouths together again.  Jesse’s head was still buzzing; better than any fucking pipe full of crystal or spoonful of tar, but he tried to give as good as he got.  Slipping his tongue into Mr. White’s mouth, sliding a hand along the smooth surface of his scalp, nipping at his lip when he pulled back for air.

Mr. White broke off the assault long enough to ask, “Just how far are you prepared to take this?”  Pinned between the wall and the larger man, Jesse had a pretty good idea what he was asking.  He smirked back up at him, cocking an eyebrow for emphasis before grinding his hips against Mr. White’s in response.  He was rewarded with a groan, and a tightening of the grip on his shoulders.

Jesse reached out and unfastened the buttons on Mr. White’s shirt.  The older man watched steadily as Jesse slid his shirt off.  When he tugged Mr. White’s undershirt out of his slacks, his hand was seized and held against the older man’s groin.

“You sure you want to do this?” Mr. White asked him, his voice rough.  “Even for a case of combat lust, I wouldn’t have thought I was exactly your type,” he added.

Jesse rolled his eyes, and deliberately squeezed his captive hand around the bulge.  “I’m here, aren’t I?”  He pulled his hand back and stripped off his own t-shirt, hooking his fingers in his waistband.  “Besides, I fucking kissed you first.”

Mr. White stared at him for another moment before leaning in and kissing him again.  Gentler this time; not the attack, retreat, and attack again of before.  Jesse cooed – fucking _cooed_ – when Mr. White moved his lips to the now-exposed skin of Jesse’s collarbone, sucking and nipping his way to his shoulder.  “C’mon,” he said when Jesse was vibrating with tension, wrapping a large hand around a bare shoulder and pulling him away from the wall.

In the bedroom, Mr. White wasted no time stripping his undershirt and slacks off, sending his socks flying until he was standing at the foot of his bed in that ridiculous underwear he wore.  Jesse busied himself with his jeans as Mr. White suddenly dropped the briefs, too.  Jesse stood there, somewhat shyly in his own boxers, as Mr. White turned and went into the bathroom.  He came back carrying a small opaque container.

“I keep it around for the surgical scar,” Mr. White muttered, gesturing toward the puckered skin that curved around his torso.  “It softens the tissue.”  He put the container on the nightstand before turning back the covers and sliding into the bed.  He reached out, grabbing Jesse’s wrist and tugging him forward gently.  Jesse quirked a smile down at him and removed Mr. White’s glasses, which he folded and carefully placed next to the little plastic tub.

Mr. White slid over, making room for Jesse to sit next to him.  Jesse reached out a tentative finger and touched the start of the scar.  The older man shut his eyes as Jesse’s fingertip danced across the red line, but flew open again when Jesse leaned forward and gently kissed the ridged skin.  He couldn’t hold back the moan that followed, and he brought a hand up to cup the back of Jesse’s softly-spiked head as he kissed a trail up Mr. White’s chest.  The moan was repeated when Jesse’s tongue flicked over his nipple, and he laid his other hand flat against Jesse’s back.

Their mouths met again, and Mr. White used the opportunity to twist them around so that Jesse’s head lay on a pillow while he hovered above him.  The older man slid one of his legs in between Jesse’s, and smiled when he felt Jesse buck involuntarily.

“Imagine how that would feel if you’d take those off,” Mr. White suggested, tugging at the waistband of Jesse’s boxers.  Jesse managed to maneuver himself out of them without pulling too far away, and gasped when the other man’s leg rubbed against his erection.

“I… oh, god,” Jesse muttered.  “Jesus.  Are you a fucking expert at everything?” he babbled, causing Mr. White to chuckle softly as he alternated kisses and little flicks of his tongue down to Jesse’s navel.

“Not as such, pertaining to this,” Mr. White replied between licks.  “I do, however, pride myself on a certain improvisational ability.”  He started to move lower, pushing blankets out of his way as he explored, when Jesse grabbed at his hands. 

“I… oh, fuck, if you do that…  I’m gonna…” Jesse panted.  “This’ll be over pretty fast.”

Mr. White pulled back.  “Do you want me to…?”  Instead of voicing the rest of the question, he waved in the direction of the nightstand.  It took a second, but Jesse understood.  He nodded.

“Yeah,” he replied, swallowing thickly.  Jesse’s earlier bluster had evaporated, replaced entirely by nerves.

Mr. White grabbed the container of Vaseline, leaning on his other arm and looking down at Jesse.  “I won’t hurt you,” he said gently.  “I mean it.  Just tell me if it’s too much, okay?”  Jesse nodded.

“How do you, uh… How do you want me to…”

“Hush.  Just stay there,” Mr. White instructed as he reached up for a pillow.  He sat up, lifting Jesse’s hips to slip the pillow beneath them and nudging his legs apart.  He pulled the top off of the little plastic container, and dipped a finger inside.  Jesse closed his eyes, not really eager to watch this part, so he jumped when he felt Mr. White lay down next to him again, his mouth next to Jesse’s ear.  “Shh,” Mr. White whispered, brushing the slick finger against Jesse’s entrance.

Jesse inhaled sharply, turning his face into the older man’s neck.  The finger slid inward a little, and Jesse tensed and shuddered against him.  Mr. White paused, waiting until he felt Jesse nod before pushing any further.

It didn’t hurt in the way he’d expected.  Even as the finger slid further in, it felt more like a burning kind of feeling than actual pain.  The deeper Mr. White went, the more Jesse forced himself to try and relax.  It didn’t help that he could feel Mr. White’s erection against his thigh, practically _throbbing_ as he penetrated Jesse with his finger. 

Mr. White hummed in his ear, and crooked his middle finger while giving it a little twist.  “Jesse.  My Jesse,” he whispered, and the combination of warm breath in his ear and that fucking _finger_ moving like that…

“Holyfuckingohmygod,” Jesse rambled, grabbing Mr. White’s shoulder in one hand, and fisting his fingers into the blanket with the other hand.

“My Jesse,” Mr. White whispered again, doing _that_ with his finger again.  Jesse nearly sobbed.  Mr. White alternated gentle thrusts with the finger and doing _that_ until Jesse was moaning incoherently.  The finger withdrew suddenly, and Jesse whimpered, but then two slick fingertips took its place.

At Jesse’s strangled groan, Mr. White nuzzled against his cheek.  Jesse leaned against him, trying again to make himself relax.  “Good, Jesse.  So good,” Mr. White murmured, carefully working the fingers further in.

The burning returned, almost too much to bear by the time both of those fingers were fully in, but then Mr. White did _that_ again, and Jesse felt his own cock jump.  “Fuck…” Jesse moaned, arching his back a little, moaning even more when Mr. White hummed his approval.  “Oh, fuck, Mr. White.”

“Is that a request?” the older man asked with a smug smile, timing his words with another gentle twist of his fingers.

“If you can do _that_ , then, yeah, that’s a fucking request,” Jesse gasped in reply.  Mr. White chuckled again as he slowly withdrew both fingers.  He knelt before Jesse then, liberally slicking up his own erection.  “Do I… do you want me to move?” Jesse asked hesitantly.

Mr. White shook his head as he stroked himself.  “No, I think this will be easier,” he said, bending to press a quick kiss to Jesse’s lips, pulling back when Jesse would have deepened it.  Mr. White smiled; a genuine smile that erased the deep lines of worry around his mouth.  “More of that in a minute,” he promised, repositioning the pillow to elevate Jesse’s hips.  He splayed his free hand over Jesse’s stomach, holding him gently in place, as he used his other hand to guide his cock to Jesse’s entrance.

It was almost too much, right away.  The burning sensation was more intense, the angle was different, his anxiety was higher… but Jesse made himself hold still, forced himself to breathe.  His eyes widened, holding Mr. White’s gaze as the older man pushed a little deeper.  Mr. White could feel tension vibrating through him again, and moved his hand to the bed for support as he leaned to put his mouth as close to Jesse’s ear as possible.

“Jesse.  My Jesse,” he whispered.  “So warm.  So fucking good,” he continued, murmuring a litany of nonsense to comfort Jesse; grounding him as Mr. White slowly pushed the length of his cock inside.  “So good,” he said again, finally coming to rest.  He waited a moment, pulling back enough to see Jesse blink up at him with large, wet eyes.

“It’s…” Jesse panted, licking his lips, “kind of…”  Mr. White gave an experimental thrust, trying to nudge against Jesse’s prostate again.  The complaint broke off with a mewl, so he did it again.

“That better?”

Jesse nodded, still wide-eyed, reaching up to clutch at his shoulders.  “Oh _fuck_.”  He flexed the fingers, urging Mr. White to move again.  “More, fucking _more,_ man!” he begged.

Mr. White smiled again before withdrawing slightly and doing as Jesse requested.  They settled into a sort of rhythm when Jesse realized he could lift his hips to intensify the pleasure.  Mr. White raised himself up again, bracing a hand on the bed by Jesse’s chest and taking Jesse’s cock in his other hand.  Jesse whimpered, clenching momentarily around Mr. White.

“Jesus, Jesse, if you do that again,” Mr. White choked out, stilling himself.  “I’m too close to tolerate much more of that.”

“Please,” Jesse said, lifting his hips again in an effort to draw his partner deeper again.  “Just fucking _fuck_ me already?” he begged.  Mr. White groaned, abandoning his grip on Jesse’s cock in favor of placing both hands on the bed by his shoulders.  He increased his pace, spurred by both Jesse’s gasps, and the fingernails Jesse was digging into his shoulders.  When he came, he lowered his head and bit hard at the juncture of Jesse’s neck and shoulder.  Jesse screamed – actually fucking _screamed_ – as he came too.

Soon after, too soon after, Jesse hissed as Mr. White withdrew.  He tugged the pillow out from beneath Jesse and tossed it onto the floor.  Jesse curled up slightly, involuntarily, shuddering slightly in the aftermath of his orgasm.  Mr. White coughed a little as he caught his breath, then rolled to face Jesse.

He smiled, a real smile again, those lines around his mouth again disappearing.  “You okay?” Mr. White asked, raising his hand to catch Jesse’s chin.  When Jesse nodded, the smiled widened even more, and he was rewarded with a gentle kiss.  Gentle, _tender_ , even, not demanding in the least, not like he’d fucked up at all, and then Jesse was rolled onto his side and snugged up closely to the older man.

“Sleep now,” Mr. White instructed.  Jesse fought back a giggle.  An actual fucking giggle.

“Always with the orders, huh?” he mumbled back.

* * *

_Back to the present…_

“I can _hear_ you _thinking_ ,” Mr. White grumbled.

“Makes a nice change, right?” Jesse snarked back, twisting his head to smile at him.  The older man rolled his eyes.

“Not when I’m trying to sleep, smart ass.”  He felt the bulk of the larger man shifting behind him, his legs trapping one of Jesse’s ankles.  “Sleep.  Now.”  As far as orders went, it was a pretty poor one, delivered in a growly, sleepy mumble, and followed with what felt an awful lot like a kiss to his temple.

Jesse closed his eyes and burrowed his head against the pillow.  “Whatever you say, Mr. White.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments, criticism, interaction of any kind appreciated. First smut!fic for BrBa.


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